Forever's Not Enough
by pianogrl16
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring Troy and Gabriella.
1. Poetry

**Summary: A compilation of romantic one-shots featuring Troy and Gabriella **

**I love writing one-shots, perhaps maybe more than full-featured stories and since I love Troyella, I thought it would be perfect to write a collection of one-shots featuring my favorite couple. I do not know how many chapters I'll write, so you'll just have to go with the flow with me here. **

**The first one-shot: Poetry **

Forever's not Enough

Gabriella's face beamed as her best friend had winked at her, sitting down at the desk behind her. She turned, giving a beautiful, 100 hundred watts smile at him until Mrs. Darbus had walked into the room, and she turned, back to her original position, while twirling a strand of curly brown hair with her finger. A constant habit of hers, he noticed.

"Good morning class." Mrs. Darbus had on a lime green skirt with a hot pink, ruffly top and stiletto heels. Her face had pounds of make-up on, and her shawl contrasted heavily with her purple eye-shadow.

Troy's eyes were almost burning from the bright illumination that originated from her outfit.

"Welcome back, and I hope that on this dreary Monday morning, your bright minds will be refreshed and excited at the prospect of learning and fulfilling your capabilities in education, your love for knowledge and prosperity in the arts will never unwaver, you dreams and goals will," She walked around the room, putting her arms up as if she was an Olympic champion, speaking as if she was auditioning in a Shakespeare monologue.

Troy was almost falling asleep due to Mrs. Darbus's speech…and his all-nighter he pulled yesterday from his procrastinating on the history project when her loud, exuberant voice stopped him.

"MR. BOLTON!"

The whole class practically jumped out of their seats from her yelling when she averted her eyes toward him. She walked towards him, her eyes never leaving his.

"Since you seem to be very interested in my class, maybe you can be the very first to present your project tomorrow in class?"

"What project?"

"Ah, yes. Another sign of your paying attention. I was just explaining that since we are in the unit of poetry, my project is for you to write a poem. Nothing really specific, just a recording of you and something meaningful in your life. However, I want you to focus all of your creative energy onto it because it will be 50 percent of your final grade for the semester. Remember, no complete sentences, neat handwriting, in pencil, on notebook paper. Not crumbled and certainly not in the format of your last project that you had turned into me."

She turned, her shawl almost hitting his face.

"You will present first, Mr. Bolton. And keep in mind, your presentation will also be graded heavily. And nothing on hockey, or whatever sport you participate in. I actually want something meaningful in your project."

Troy quickly grabbed his stuff, leaving the room in a hurry. This early, stress was piling up on his shoulders. The basketball game was tomorrow, his project would most likely garner bad attention, plus, he had to write some stupid poem about something meaningful. As if Darbus would take anything that didn't include Sharpay Evans and her clone brother Ryan Evans or anything that had to due with her theater. Anything outside of that area made Darbus look like a dud.

"Troy!" Gabriella made him turn around and all of his thoughts had suddenly vanished. With a simple light blue shirt, a butterfly hairclip, jeans, and black ballet flats on, her pretty but simple clothing had always managed to captivate Troy Bolton's affections plus her constant smile.

"Are you all right? You look exhausted."

"All-nighter."

"That sucks, plus Darbus was pretty tough on you in there."

"Nah, she just needs someone to pick on while she is in the midst of a mid-life crisis or something."

Gabriella giggled, and put a hand on his arm affectionately.

"If you ever need help with a project, I'm here for you. To be honest, I don't even know what to write about for my poetry project. A poem about math and science would be pretty conventional and unsophisticated and eloquent, but I need to see if I can write about something really meaningful. You know?"

"Yeah," Troy whispered, not really paying attention. He was too focused on her mouth moving instead of the words coming out.

"Troy. TROY!" She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, concerned.

Troy shook, his eyes blinking several times. "Sorry, I have so much pressure on me from basketball, school."

"I understand. Me too, it's hard to find that equal balance."

"Plus, if I don't get an A on this project, I'm toast, Gabriella. My mom will kill me. I can't write poetry, I can barely construct full sentences while writing an essay."

"Poetry doesn't need sentences. Poetry is just like a song, it tells a story without a conventional explanation to it. You have broken versus in stanzas and sometimes, poems don't even make the best sense. It's interpretation. It's easier than writing a story, because stories are longer plus include a beginning, middle, and an end."

"Gabriella!" Taylor McKessie stormed up to the pair in her usual headband, black skirt, and polo. "Come on, chemistry is next and we have that lab."

"Oh yeah!" Gabriella turned to Troy, patted his arm, and grinned at him, melting Troy's heart once more. "I'll see you soon, Troy."

He sat at home, in the middle of the night, trying to find some kind of meaning in something. No basketball, just something that would inspire him.

He glanced at his bedside table, finding the beautiful girl in the chestnut frame, with her lovely smile and delicate face. It had been a picture from when they had gone together at the bonfire in the summer, as friends.

Every night, he would stare at that picture, looking at her, for what seemed like forever and it never seemed enough.

To say that he hated going to school was an understatement, but to say that seeing her made it all better somehow. Everything did, being with her made him feel like his soul was worth living, and his life wasn't so bad.

He also loved her because of her quirks, the ones that no one would notice except him. The way she talked, her habits, her favorite things, the ones that a person wouldn't bother to notice, but he would just to somehow get to know her better, and just because whatever she did, made him love her a little bit more every day.

And somehow from this realization, his eyes went wide and he started to write.

"Hey." He greeted Gabriella the next morning and noticed her next outfit. She had on a pretty light blue sundress on and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. "How's your poem?" She asked him.

Troy looked down, embarrassed. "It's okay." He shyly pulled his face back up, ignoring her questionable eyes.

"Class." Mrs. Darbus clapped her hands together to gain back their attention. "I believe we have projects to present, particularly Mr. Bolton's. Please stand up, Troy, and I warn you, if your project has anything to due with athletics, I will mark that paper and tear it apart before anyone else's."

Gabriella glanced back sympathetically and Troy stood up, gulping. Chad and Taylor and the rest of their big class stared at him, interestingly enough and he put a hand through his hair, pulling out the crumbled paper in his hands, earning an eye roll from Mrs. Darbus.

_You have a way with me_

_I wish I could say more _

_Your way with me makes me sing, wants me to dance out to the world _

_It's the way you sing _

_The way you make me go crazy _

_How your voice is like an angel's _

_So soft and still with grace _

_The way your eyes sparkle _

_Whenever you get something right_

_It seems your brilliance never falters _

_I never was observant before _

_Until your voice met mine _

_And then I noticed your every quirk _

_The way you walk_

_The way you talk_

_It's the way you make me go nuts_

_When you're never with me _

_When you smile, when you laugh _

_How it all makes me go crazy _

_It's you and me forever _

_That's how it is all meant to be _

_I wish that I could see inside _

_How you want it all to be _

_But now I still wait for you _

_Near the stars and in my dreams_

_It's your every little thing_

_That makes everything all better _

_Forgets all my problems _

_And takes me elsewhere, somewhere _

_I wish I could say more _

_To detail it in better _

_But to shorten it_

_I'll just say it's everything _

_That makes me love you more _

_That makes my heart seem to soar _

_It's everything, it's you and me_

_Every little thing of yours, that makes me love you more _

Troy ignored others' shocked expressions and Gabriella's wide eyes and sat back down, his face was beat red and Chad was trying desperately to capture his attention.

"Mr. Bolton, may I say that was a very sophisticated poem. Well done. Not what I had expected."

Troy smiled, and thanked her, and then stared at the back of Gabriella's hair.

_It was all you. _

"Whose next?"

"May I go, Mrs. Darbus?"

Gabriella raised her hand and retrieved a piece of clean paper with organized handwriting.

Gabriella turned knowingly to Troy and grinned.

_"A Boy I Know" _

_There's a boy I know _

_In a red and white jersey _

_A boy whose face beams whenever he shoots a basket _

_He's a superstar, on and off court _

_Walking the halls at school _

_Like he's a special gift to girls, and the people who attend our school _

_He acts as if he's cool, smooth, and talkative _

_But truthfully the boy I know is quiet, sweet, and polite _

_He always "please and thank you" _

_And if you fall, he'll pick up your stuff and help you right back up _

_The boy I know has a special place in my heart _

_For he is cool and smooth_

_With me, he is and if he loses _

_He still is a true champion _

_He is cool but not in the way people think_

_He has a way with words _

_But his way with words is not shallow, for his way involves true thoughts _

_He looks at life in the best of ways _

_With positivity and enjoyment _

_He tries his best at everything_

_Even if it sucks _

_The boy I know is one I love _

_Not just in friendship or platonically _

_I love him, truly _

_The day I met him_

_No way else, nothing regretted _

_I've always loved him, no matter what _

_I've loved his ways and quirks _

_The way he sees me is through friendship and I'm convinced that's how it works _

_But the boy I know is the boy I love and I want to be his girl _

_I want to be the girl he holds _

_The one whose heart he shares _

_And even if I'll share it in paper _

_It'll all still work out_

_Because he'll always be the boy I'll know_

_But still in an uncomplex way, the boy I'll somehow, always love _

Gabriella, had too, sat down, and avoided Troy's gaze at her. And as, someone else was presenting their poem, a note had been passed back to her.

_I love you, too. _

_Troy_


	2. Marry Me

**2nd one-shot**

**Change**

She was once beautiful. She remembered this, nostalgically. She was once a beautiful girl with vibrant brown curls and an angelic smile. But like, the 10 years that had come and passed, she had changed, just like the man that she had once, or unfortunately for her, would always love.

3 months. 3 months of him coming home in the middle of the night and crashing down on the couch. 3 months of him never speaking to her, kissing her good-bye, and holding her when she needed it the most. 3 long months of silence.

After high school graduation, she had sacrificed her big dreams of Harvard to attend UCLA with him. She scrimped money while he lived a nice life as a college athlete who had the whole world at his fingertips. She proudly watched him and he convinced her that one day, they'd truly have everything they would have wanted.

He had fulfilled his dreams as a star, where he really belonged. He scored uncountable baskets, made millions off of various endorsements, and wore his Lakers jersey proudly as she gave up her dream once more to work as an average Kindergarten teacher at a famished pre school.

He didn't finish his education. When he was 20, he was recruited and she hesitantly agreed to his dreams. What a stupid decision for someone who had scored a perfect score on her standardized tests.

By the time he was 27, he was still on top of the world until a tremendously tragic accident had caused him to go through surgery and never play again. 7 years of a legacy in the NBA. And it was gone.

She had moved in to help him through his pain and suffering, helped dress him, feed him, and even survived through his temperamental outbreaks, her heart was breaking piece by piece.

A thousand times over, people had asked her to leave, and Gabriella considered it herself. But how could she leave the man that had given her everything at 17 and would still be with her 10 years later? How could she ever let go of that loose thread that held all of their lives together. If she let go, his world would go crashing down and hers would tumble over, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to pick up the pieces.

No matter how many times she considered it, she would never follow up on that promise, but no one could truly forget their first love.

Her dreams were so far out of sight…

She had finally snapped a year later, when he sat, drunk, on the couch, remnants of Chinese take-out on the kitchen counter. She was truthfully tired, exhausted, and wanted a way out. No one told her she had to deal with all of this, but she did it because she cared, because she loved him, but she never got the feeling the same emotions were returned, because he never did anything back.

"Troy. Troy, please say something," she whispered to him as she went to his side.

His eyes drooped heavily and she kicked the floor, screaming. "One year, Troy. A year and 3 months and you still won't do anything."

"This is who we are now, Gabi." Troy lifted his head up and opened his eyes. "I made you give up your dreams and convinced you that I would give you more, and look at us now. I gave you nothing. We've become useless."

"You became useless, Troy." Gabriella broke out in tears and sweat. "So your career ended, but at least you've got everything you've ever wanted. I've waited 10 years. Ten years for you to make a move, for you to follow up on everything you've said, your career may have ended a little early, but your dreams still came into your grasp, but mine are still as far away as anything else."

She lifted herself up and retrieved a suitcase out of nowhere, packing up all of her belongings. Tears still poured out of her eyes until she finally opened the door, looked at his sad figure one last time, and slammed it, closed everything of her former life.

She had wondered for 6 months what it would be like to face him again, meet him in some very moment in time in another world, and see how he would react. Would he say he missed her? Scold her for not being there in his time of need? Beg for her forgiveness? She wondered all the different possibilities in her head.

Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed except that she no longer saw his scruffy but still handsome face in her living room. She had attempted turning her life around and saw that it was partially her fault for taking a career she would never be satisfied with. Balancing 3 and 4 year olds was not her dream job. Yet she kept on coming back, a reminder that she would never let go of her old life.

She could never let go of Troy, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she tried to avoid thoughts of him, tried to replay different situations in an alternate universe.

Her aching heart and over thinking nature had caused her to sit down on a Saturday night, listening to a Babyface song on the radio and stirring a pot of black coffee.

6 months, 6 months without her soulmate and she was barely surviving. No matter how many times he hurt her.

Her nostalgic thoughts were soon interrupted by a door ring and she quietly opened the door, expecting a total stranger, when in fact, it was the complete opposite.

There he stood, uncertain and afraid with his hands in his jean pockets, with a black jacket on, and his face shaven. He looked clean and for the first time, she didn't see him with a beer bottle in his grasp. His eyes were wide awake and were not red and emotionless but rather filled with hope and anxiety.

"Troy," she whispered.

"Hey, is it okay if I come in?"

"Yeah, of course."

She opened the door wider and he sauntered in, glancing around her small, cramped apartment.

After a few moments, she finally spoke. "Troy, what are you doing here?"

Troy gulped and fidgeted. "I came to apologize. A long delayed apology is due and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for how I treated you, for everything I've done."

"Is that it? Or is there something else that you wanted to say?"

"Gabriella, I miss you. I've missed you forever."

"I can't just forgive you like that, Troy. A relationship takes time and effort and two people. But so far, I'm the only one involved and all you do is give me a half-hearted apology and no compromises."

"I know that Gabriella. For the past 10 years, I've given our relationship 100 percent."

That almost made Gabriella explode.

"No you haven't," she said calmly. "I've been with you for nearly all my life. You are the only guy I've ever been with. Ten years, Troy. Ten years and our relationship moves nowhere. It's not growing, not changing. I frankly don't know what to do next."

Troy nodded, his expression turning from hopeful to shocked.

"Are you saying that you want more? I'm not giving you enough? Because I've worked my butt of trying to give you everything you've ever needed or wanted."

"Troy, no! No! I didn't ask for security or for luxury, but I wanted to put ourselves to the next level. I'm tired of being your girlfriend, I'm tired of being your high school sweetheart. I just want change."

"I've always been afraid of change, Gabriella."

"I know you do, Troy. I know, that's why I've waited. But 10 years is far too long for me to wait."

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said, okay." 

Gabriella lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Her Troy never really got the full picture and accepted so easily, he was so stubborn, it gave her wonder why she was ever attracted to him.

Troy reached into his pocket and lifted a blue velvet box revealing an oval diamond ring. "I know it's long overdue, but I think some change wouldn't hurt." He got down on one knee and took her hand. "Marry me?"

Gabriella stared back at him in awe. After 10 years, 10 years of waiting for the right moment, he had picked now out of all. When they were in limbo, and had just started talking.

"Troy, are you sure about this?"

"Why not? I know what you mean by change, and I know I'm cautious and never want to take a full step ahead, but why don't we be impulsive for once. You want more, I'll give you more, I'll marry you, I'll make you my wife, and we'll have what we wanted. I'll give you your long overdue dreams and hand you back what you deserve."

"Okay." Gabriella earnestly smiled for the first time in 9 months. "I'll marry you."

"Yes!" Troy chuckled and adjusted the ring onto her finger, a place where something had never fit so perfectly.

"But first." Gabriella smiled, pulling him up. "Let's take this slow. Let's travel back to square 1."

"You mean, start all over?" 

"Forget everything that's happened before and slowly go back to how we used to be before your accident. But while we're in that process, we're getting married under a period of 6 months. I've waited too long to be Mrs. Troy Bolton."

"Okay." 

And for the first time, with the ring on her finger and the state of their relationship back on again, Gabriella had never been so beautiful. To Troy, she had changed in an instant of a second with her giddiness and joy.

Gabriella Montez had always amazed him with her unwavering kindness and loving personality, but it was her ability to love him, no matter who the man he would be, that amazed him the most.

Gabriella was his soulmate, he realized, and this is where they belonged.

And with that, he leaned in and closed the space in between them.


	3. Audrey Hepburn

Hey guys

**Hey guys! I'm back and I'm so sorry it took so long for an update. But at last, I came up with an idea! **

**This is just plain Troyella fluff, nothing really serious…**

**However, though the main event in the story (you'll see!) is major in them as a couple, I decided I will write a second one-shot following this, so mainly this is kind of like a two-part short story… **

**3****rd**** oneshot: Audrey Hepburn**

Troy lifted the baby name book off the coffee counter in the living room and glanced at Gabriella and her plump stomach. "How are you doing mommy?"

"She's kicking up a storm, Troy. I think the baby won't inherit your basketball skills, this time around, Troy."

She rubbed her stomach gently, and smiled kindly at her excited husband.

They had 8 glorious years together as a couple, and 2 as a married one, and they were still going stronger than ever, and the greatest piece of evidence of that would be represented through their child, a sign that their love would pass down through the future years to come.

Gabriella had always wished for a fairy-tale romance, the charming man that would sweet her off her feet, and whisk her away to a huge castle and they'd live off their dreams together in the years to come.

But the Prince was the opposite of what she pictured of her dream guy now….instead, her dream guy was a rising NBA basketball star and slightly awkward in a teenage boy way, for whenever you talked about the gushy romantic stuff, he'd stutter and sweat like a pig. When she had first told him she loved him when she was 17, he ran outside to catch a deep breath. That event was never mentioned again.

Contrary to popular belief, Troy wasn't as macho as he seemed, he was kind and had such a huge heart of gold that he would cringe his way through romantic chick flicks with her just to make her happy.

Gabriella loved him more than she could ever thought she would love a human being….

She sighed at the scenario of him flipping happily through the pages of the thick book. With soft, meditating, Sarah McLachlan music in the background, and picture outside turning to sunset, she pictured this as what the first few years with their baby would be like. They would be calmly listening to the music while their baby girl would be playing with her stuffed Wildcat on the floor, and then Troy would pick her up and blow on her stomach while she would happily watch.

She avoided to think about the years ahead of growing hormones, boy craziness, screaming friends, and outbursts, the growing volume of popular music blasting from her bed room, messy rooms filled with shoes and clothing around the floor, a skyrocketing cell phone bill, and frustration. Though she was excited at the prospect of adding to her family with Troy, she was not looking forward to replaying her years as a teenager once more.

"How about Nancy?" Troy looked up excitedly from his book, expecting a nod of approval.

"I wasn't too fond of the Nancy Drew books," Gabriella dazed off. "Besides, if we name our daughter, we are not naming her after a teenage detective; it would be like naming your daughter Hermione or something."

"How about Daisy Rose?"

She rolled her eyes casually. "Naming her after two flowers is just plain tacky."

"So we can't name her Sunflower anymore." He pretended to frown.

"Nice try."

"How about Minnie?"

"Now that is just terrible. I told you we are not naming her after any tacky characters. We sound like crazed parents."

"You never said that, you said that we are not naming our daughter after a teenage detective. Those are the exact words you said."

"Well, I am making that a new rule now."

"How about we name her after Kate Bosworth or Sarah Michelle Geller?"

"Troy, I am not naming our daughter to remind you of your crazy teenage girl fantasies. That is truly a no-no."

He closed the book, and rolled his eyes. "I have no idea what you want then, Gabriella. You are so picky."

"I'm not picky, I just have taste."

He put a hand to his heart. "Touché."

He put his hand over hers and raised it up to kiss it. "We have to come up with a name soon, however. You are 7 months along."

"Troy, that's 2 months."

"But we don't even have a list of possible names. And picking a name is rather important, it sticks with the poor child for the rest of their life. Like me, do you really think I like being named after the destroyed ancient city in Greece?"

"Though Brad Pitt was rather hot in that movie…"

"Gabriella," he replied seriously.

"All right, jealous, I'll quit."

Gabriella stood up to go on the other side of the couch and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry I've been cranky and hard on you. I have raging pregnant hormones."

"I know." Troy looked up and kissed her forehead gently. "I understand."

"What? You've been pregnant before?" She smiled playfully.

"I did live with my mom when she got pregnant with Trevor."

Troy massaged her arm and she retreated to sitting right down beside him, leading him to rub and listen to her stomach, waiting for a kick.

"Ooooo, that was a big one, babe."

"This one's going to be a soccer player, I can feel it," Gabriella replied back dreamily.

"Nah, she'll be a brainiac, just like you…"

They smiled again goofily at each other, enjoying the moment of peace because they knew life with a child would not be like this forever, it would be filled with ups and downs, and tumultuous roller coasters…

But they would manage to get through it…..just like they always did…

"Hey, Troy. I think I have a name in mind….for the baby…."

"What is it?" He asked, preoccupied with massaging her shoulders.

"When I was younger, I constantly watched old movies, but my favorites were with Audrey Hepburn because I admired her as an actress the most…."

She turned around in her position to quietly face him…

"How about Audrey Lane Bolton?"

"Where did you get the Lane from?"

"I love _Gilmore Girls_."

"Hey! You said no naming after tacky characters."

"Well, yours were tacky, but the Lane makes it sound prettier."

"Fine, but only because you have to carry the baby weight."

"So what do you think of the name?"

"Audrey. It sounds graceful and classy."

"And that's how we want our daughter to be, right?"

"I like it, but I hope she likes Audrey Hepburn."

"She will. She better."

She laid back into his arms and pecked his lips. "Troy, when we have this baby, I want you to know that I will put myself into this 100 percent as a mother, because I love you and the family that we'll create. I promise you I'm not going to back down and give up."

Troy brushed his hand through her raven curls. "I know you won't, Gabriella. In fact, I think you'll be the glue to the tumultuous obstacles we'll face through as a family."

He then lowered his voice to just a sudden whisper. "And just so you know, I promise I'll be the best dad to her as I've tried to be as a husband to you."

"You have been, Troy. You have been."

"And I love you, Gabriella."

"Aww…you didn't say it with a stutter this time!"

"Way to ruin the moment!"

**I love Troyella! Anyway, look out for another one-shot following the Bolton family. **


	4. Perfect Little Girl

**Hey, I just wrote this today. And since I'm busy tomorrow, I decided to update. It's a follow up to what's original. **

**I was possibly thinking about writing something about Audrey since I like writing about her. Anyway, just a thought. Enjoy!**

"You did it baby. You did it. I'm so proud of you." He brushed away her sweaty strands of hair from her forehead and leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips. "You did it," he whispered again.

"How many hours of labor must one endure for a child to get out?" Gabriella shrieked, exhausted from the pain.

Gabriella turned, her eyes raging with frustration. "And wipe that goofy smirk off, Troy."

"I thought the moodiness ends when the pregnancy is over," he moaned.

A blond and pretty, wide-grinned nurse had then sauntered it, a soft pink, baby blanket in her hands with the baby snuggled and wrapped in.

"Congratulations on a beautiful and healthy baby girl, Mr. and Mrs. Bolton. Gabriella will be officially let out in 2 days.

"I want to hold her," Gabriella wistfully said as the baby walked near her in her bed.

"Of course." The nurse gently handed Audrey to her as Gabriella stared at her baby in awe.

"I'll be back soon to check on you. Please holler if you guys are in need of something."

The perky nurse left, leaving the new family gathered together for the first time.

"She's so beautiful," Gabriella whispered, her eyes watering up.

She giggled as the baby breathed softly. "Look at how small her fingers are, Troy." She silently counted her tiny fingers and toes, and then retreated back to admiring her newborn daughter.

"Daddy, can you hold her?"

Troy nodded eagerly and reached for her. As he held her, he saw tears coming from his eyes and rocked her gently in his arms, humming a lullaby. "Gabriella, she has your hair."

"And your eyes," she dazed off.

"I think that's my mother's nose."

"My father's forehead."

"And your cheekbones," Troy finally blurted out.

"Where's the baby?" Socorro Montez walked in, excitedly with Lucille and Coach Bolton following in.

"Shhhh…" Gabriella put a finger to her mouth and pointed to Troy's figure.

The new grandparents clustered around Troy, in admiration of the baby.

"Oh, mija! I am a grandma!"

"She looks just like Gabriella," Lucille whispered.

"Though she does have my forehead," Coach drifted, touching his own.

"Troy, honey. I am so proud of you and your family."

Lucille kissed his cheeks, and put a hand through his arm.

"We'll be out in the hall, guys. I want to hold her later," Coach led the two ecstatic women outside and closed the door.

After a few moments of silence, Gabriella finally piped out: "Your dad is such a softie."

Troy laughed. "He's going to be a pushover when she comes over for play dates. I can just picture her with Barbie dolls and stuffed animals around her when we reach home."

Troy finally sat down, resting nicely with his baby girl.

"Gabriella, I'm scared," he admitted, brushing the delicate infant's hair.

"I have such a fragile and delicate human being in my hands. What I do will affect her for the rest of our lives, I raise her. I can't even cook a Mac and Cheese right. How am I supposed to raise a daughter? Change diapers? Teach her what's right and wrong? I….I'm confused….and scared and…"

"Troy." Gabriella's eyes looked desperate for attention.

"Man, I wish I could get up now. But Troy, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"You already had so much on your hands, Gabriella. I can't pile this on you now."

"Troy, I'm scared too. Beyond belief, I am."

She then reached out for him to come near her.

He walked to her, handing the baby back to her once more.

"But we'll get through this, together, Troy. We've always had."

She looked back at their child, their living and breathing proof of their love.

"We have our parents, our friends, we have so many people that can help us and will support us along the way. We're not the only ones to get through this."

"But how are we going to get it right?"

"We're not going to always do this right, Troy. We will make so many mistakes as parents, but it doesn't stop us from raising good children, because they will make mistakes too and together, we'll fix them."

Both of them put their hands in the other, a usual perfect fit. Her tiny, delicate hands, and his big, rough ones were a match that no other hands could fit into.

"What do you think she'll be like, anyways?" Gabriella remarked, changing the subject.

Troy sat down, his body aching from Gabriella and her screaming self throughout the entire labor.

"She'll have a knack for math and science, but I have a feeling she won't like basketball, though we could always have another one and hope for a Troy Jr. She'll be a bookworm, be senior class President, and have all the guys chasing after her."

"She'll be reserved but still friendly to others."

"And bake cookies for the elderly."

"Watch Audrey Hepburn movies in her free time."

"And teach others how to play the piano."

"Will she be perfect?"

"In my eyes, she'll be daddy's little girl."

"No way, she's a total momma's girl!"

"Man, I hope we get a boy soon."

"Fine, how about I have dibs on Audrey and you on Troy Jr.?"

"No way, you'll teach her how to out joke me."

"All's fair in family and war."

"How about we have 3 kids? Maybe we'll have boy twins?"

"Oh goodness, I don't know why we are talking about more children when I just went through 15 hours of labor having one. Now I have to go through another having twins?"

"Or triplets."

"No way. I'm all for an only child now."

"NO way. We HAVE to have a boy. I'm not going through lectures about how to find the right blouse or which Juicy Couture purse is cuter or…"

"You girl! You know what Juicy Couture is…"

"And I am not, I am not letting her have a Sidekick or an IPhone until she can afford one. The only thing I will settle for are books, food, and a few shirts and jeans."

"Troy, I have to pay for dresses for her. When she gets baptized!"

"Fine. One dress."

"One dress? What about Easter? And the Christmas card?"

"We have to have a Christmas card?" he grumbled.

"Yes. And don't forget she has to watch Little Einstein and listen to Mozart."

"I was planning on her listening to Nirvana."

"I am not planning on our daughter being a future drug addict, Troy. She'll be a child prodigy."

"One sport."

"Fine. She can take ping pong in her free time."

"Ping pong? No way, soccer, basketball, track, or gymnastics."

"Ballet?"

"No way, am I helping her buy tutus or ballet slippers."

"But Troy, ballet for her will make her graceful. And get her exposed to art and culture."

"She can read or go on a class trip to get cultured. But she needs to get in shape."

"How about cheerleading?"

"No way, am I letting our daughter go ra, ra, ra while you play, Troy. Besides, our daughter prancing around in a skirt how many inches above the knee? The rule is no mini skirts in the house, anyways."

Troy sighed, giving up. "It's always up to the mom, huh?"

Gabriella looked seriously at him and reached for his hand to grasp hers.

"No. It's us."

Gabriella played with her toes and looked up at him. "We may have problems, but we're a family."

She caressed his hand in hers and stared into his eyes. "And I love you, Troy, for forever."

"Nah."

Gabriella rolled her eyes at his ruining the moment.

Troy then leaned down to passionately kiss her. "Forever's not enough."

**Sigh. **

**  
Anyway, please review! I'll be your best friend! **


	5. I'll Be Seeing You

I'm back

**I'm back! I finally came up with another IDEA, and I am very excited to be back on here again…..and bonus, if all of you lovely readers could review, I'll love you forever if you do!**

Enjoy Troyella!

Gabriella Montez sighed at the boisterous crowd that had just emerged moments before her eyes. Glamorous, gum-chewing cheerleaders gathered around the two shadows centered in the circled group of students, and more girls with starry looks on their faces applauded and cheered while joining the spirited squad.

_Another typical day at East High….._

Gabriella finished gathering her pile of books in her locker, slammed it, and quietly walked down the hallway, expecting more rings and squeals to come forth.

It wasn't like she was all for school spirit, I mean, who didn't like a boost or a championship? But it was the fact that everything seemed to revolve around one group of people, the jocks…

It was like this was their kingdom to rule upon, they were not royalty, but dictators, corrupt dictators who corrupted their kingdom to get what they wanted, while people like her, less talented people in athletics had to work their butts off to earn what belonged to them…

Teachers turned their figures when they filled in the wrong bubble on tests, they "blinked" when they threw paper airplanes in the classroom or texted and changed their ringtones while doing a lab report, they had even retreated to picking on lowly people like her in order to boost their confidence for the upcoming game….

Life had always seemed to revolve around the prom queens and kings….

And it seemed like high school couldn't end any sooner

_Just a few more months, Gabriella…….Just a few more and you'll be out of there and you can start all over….._

She could already imagine the twinkling lights, strolling down the streets, looking at the Eiffel Tower while chowing down on French cheese or a croissant, admiring the magnificent works of art while traveling down the luxurious Louvre Museum, and meeting glorious new people that would expand outside of the dimwits that had occupied a majority of East High School. She would discover a new world out there for a semester in Paris, France, and then it was off to Duke University to study medicine.

She could just taste her dreams from seconds away….when really it was the scent of burritos coming from the cafeteria….

She took one last glance at the figures of Chad Danforth and Troy Bolton, sighed, and entered her AP Chemistry class…..

Troy Bolton had girls all over him, glamorous, gorgeous girls at his feet, almost who would die for one date with him….

Troy Bolton had also been a guy who got whatever he wanted, never really working for what he got, because it was always given to him….well, except basketball, of course…

He couldn't help it, and if he had a girlfriend, a beautiful, intelligent girlfriend that hopefully wouldn't fall at his feet immediately, and give him some room to breathe in, well, it would be the icing on the cake….

_If only…_He had thought when briefly gazing at the beautiful Latina who had rolled her eyes and walked into a near classroom….

Gabriella Montez had always been a quiet one and polite young lady to everyone, never really saying much unless spoken too, and the only time she really ever revealed her feelings to anyone didn't even know her identity, her name, her address, anything…which was what she liked…

In a sense, being invisible gave her freedom to roam around and not have any expectations from anybody except teachers and her overachieving mom…. She could just be normal Gabriella instead of the overachieving, goal-oriented Gabriella Montez….

With that, she grinned, and powered up her MAC computer, and opened an IM window…

_Mysteriouschica: Hey you……._

_Playhardboi: What's up?_

Mysteriouschica: Just preparing for a test…..as usual….I hate AP courses

_Playhardboi: I hate to brag….but I take it pretty easy around here…._

_Mysteriouschica: I wish the same could be said for me, goodness, I cannot wait until I can get out of here. From my mom, from this school…everything…the world seems so big and endless out there. There are just so many things to discover, you know?_

Playhardboi: I know how you feel….my dad's been hard on me about college and scholarships and such….I just, I feel the need to take a break from school and do my own thing, separate myself from this image that my dad has always set for me…..

_Mysteriouschica: Sounds like we have the same problems, playhardboi…_

_Playhardboi: So if you could choose, what would you be doing with the rest of your life instead of what has been set for you 20 years pre birth?_

Mysteriouschica: I've never really thought about anything I would do besides what's been expected for me……but I want to travel the world, see all the places, meet cool and new and different types of people, I don't know, maybe even surf?

Playhardboi: LOL. Sounds exciting. So what are you doing instead?

_Mysteriouschica: Medicine. Then its off to some fancy Ivy League school to boost my resume, a high paying salary with some job at a prestigious hospital and living with my Sally and Roger in some house with a picket fence, a dog, and a husband, probably……._

_Playhardboi: Doesn't sound so shabby to me…_

_Mysteriouschica: Not when's it all been planned long before you were born…_

_Mysteriouschica: What about you?_

Playhardboi: Hate saying this online, but I just need someone else to talk too…

_Mysteriouschica: Is that supposed to be offensive?_

Playhardboi: No, it's just how can I say everything to you when I have no earthly idea who you are?

Mysteriouschica: I'm kind of creeped out by the Internet and the fact that we're doing this….

_Playhardboi: You know that this is an East High network, right?_

Mysteriouschica: You could be some 30 year old man still a senior…

_Playhardboi: HA HA. _

_Mysteriouschica: I'll see you soon, playhardboi._

_Playhardboi: I'll see you, mysterious chica. _

Troy Bolton soon closed his laptop, unplugged it, and put it in his case, soon standing up to run to his next class….

_Mysteriouschica: What are you up too?_

Playhardboi: Thinking…

_Mysteriouschica: About what? _

_Playhardboi: About you…..what's going to happen….to us? _

_Mysteriouschica: Never thought about it that way. I don't know. I don't even know your name. _

_Playhardboi: I want to see you…soon. When can we meet up? _

_Mysteriouschica: Meet me tomorrow night at Luna Park, on the bench near the large oak tree. 8 P.M. _

_mysterious chica has signed off _

Gabriella was usually a nervous person, an uptight control freak who liked everything in order, and this meeting had to go PERFECTLY. Either he was a freak or he was her dream come true, she had never seen something that she had no control over.

But she liked it….the fact that for once in her life, no one controlled what she did, not even she did, because she didn't even know who this person was, the fact that she could lay her nerves off someone she barely knew, but felt like she knew forever in some way.

It had been 6 blissful months being part of this strange, online relationship, and now it was up to destiny to see where it would lead too next….

Gabriella walked blissfully around the park at 7:00, her hair up in a high ponytail, wearing jeans and simple black flats, she never felt so comfortable besides here, that or through her computer screen.

Here, she dreamed of the lights in Paris, the thought of escaping from her overbearing mother, and the incredible thought of love sweeping her off her feet.

She hated how clichéd it sounded, but she could imagine him, the perfect guy, one who shared the same traits of hers, perfection, pure perfection, and there, he would sweep her into his arms and hold her, make her feel loved, make her feel more love than she could ever possible dream of.

Love, a four letter world that held so many doubts and possibilities simultaneously.

It wasn't until 1 hour later, that the hope of love had escaped and the pit of nervousness began again, waiting for her dream guy to come, that was all of her thoughts had disappeared the moment that a familiar figure came across her: shaggy dirty blonde hair, high cheekbones, and amazing, cobalt eyes that were so blue, you could almost drown in them. He arrived in wrinkled jeans and a jacket, and she could almost taste the heavy scent of his cologne.

It wasn't until she recognized him as Troy Bolton when she lost all of her senses.

"Gabriella? Gabriella Montez? Are you mysteriouschica?"

She carefully nodded and crossed her arms defensively.

"Yes. I am. Wait…..you are playhardboi?"

He nodded in reply and his eyes went wide like saucers.

She put a hand through her thick dark hair, and sat down on the nearby bench.

"This cannot be possible," she muttered to herself, shocked. Troy Bolton, Wildcat superstar, popular boy who out of a population of over 2500 students had been her dream guy? The same Troy Bolton who used to partially eat her glue sticks while she had crafted in Jr. K? The same Troy Bolton, who he and his friends had spilled Coke all over her new pink sweater in 8th grade? This Troy Bolton?

"This was a mistake," she stood up after a few moments and stormed out until he gently grabbed her arm.

"Gabriella, wait. I'm just as surprised as you are."

"Exactly, which is why this can never be mentioned again. Just, we have 3 months until school is out and we can just forget about it through time. I'll go home, you go, and it will be left unnoticed."

"I never said I wanted you to go," his eyes looked desperate.

"But I do," her eyes replied with firmness.

"Can we just, just talk about this?"

She never replied back, ignoring his pleading face.

"Gabriella, please. I….I liked talking to you; I liked having someone to go to when there was no one else around, where I could just be me instead of everyone's expectations of me."

"But you are Troy. Troy Bolton, likely to be an NBA top choice, Troy Bolton. Why would you need someone like me?"

"Because you're smart, strong, kind, and beautiful. And you are the only one out of a world of people who sees someone different, and you didn't even know it was me."

"Gabriella, I've wanted you since I was in the 8th grade, after they spilled a Coke onto your sweater and you yelled at us in front of everyone. It showed that you saw beyond the labels and saw that we're just people too and it doesn't give us a royal right to treat people like that, especially ones like you."

"You want to be with me?" her voice shook and her body quivered.

"I think this could work."

"But we had a few IM conversations and went to school together for a few years….how can this work?"

"We have 3 months to get it right…."

"And the rest of our lives? Troy, this is the worst time to start a relationship now. When I wanted to meet you, I just wanted to see your face. I'm going to Paris for a semester and then to Duke…."

"I'm going to Duke on a scholarship, Gabriella…."

Gabriella's eyes went wider and she tried to find it in her head to discover another excuse…

"What about the Wildcats? Your friends? The status quo?"

"Do you really think I care about that now when all I've wanted was you," he came so close to her, she could feel his breath.

"I…..I….," she gulped.

"I've wanted you since the 5th grade," she blurted out. "Ever since you wrote that poem on Michael Jordan and his inspiration, it just touched me." She rolled her eyes. "And you aren't so bad looking either……"

"So, I'll be seeing you?" Troy finally whispered out, just centimeters away from her lips.

"Yeah," she wistfully replied back, almost filling the space in between until he spoke….

"Friday night, 6:00, I have a telescope on my balcony. I'll meet you at yours."

He pulled a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her curl for a few moments.

"You could always IM me…." She joked, her voice still quivering.

"I know. But what's the point, when I'll spend all my time with you tomorrow and the day after that, and on and on, anyway?"

"I'll be seeing you," she said, walking in an opposite direction from him.

He waved, and continued through where he originated from.

_So, he didn't kiss me that night. But what I found immediately from that was that we had the rest of our lives to figure that out, because eventually, it would always come back to me and him. _

**Anyways, I have no idea how this idea came to me. Different, I know, but still the same ending as always. Always comes back to the supercouples...**


	6. What Makes You Different

Gabriella Montez was considered brilliant by all standards...not only had she made a perfect score on her SAT as well as a 36 on her ACT, had a 4.8 GPA, and took all AP and Honors classes that East High had to offer, as well as leading her Scholastic Decathlon team to victory, she was hardly ever confused in class, always breezing through, and being guaranteed an A, or not just an A but an A plus. She was the epitome of all things academic, the envy of students from all over countries, and she NEVER failed. So imagine her surprise when now she was actually STUMPED. Stumped by a paper that was supposed to be "easy."

Flashback to when she had walked into her AP English classroom with Taylor behind her, glancing at the chalkboard with large handwriting scrawled all over in bold white chalk letters.

_WHAT SETS YOU APART THAT OTHERS MAY NOT KNOW ABOUT? _

"In other words," Dr. Krane had spoken. "What makes you unique?" Her AP English teacher walked with heavy black boots with a long black trenchcoat, making her appear like she was an intimidating detective on a mission. "Everyone obviously in our world, in this narrow classroom, has different attributes, characteristics, quirks, lives, and experiences which define them. Though it is not so much as your name or how you look that just makes you different, but its the paths which you take, the people who you are, the qualities that you embody, the experiences and obstacles in which you overcome, and the people who you endure and meet and will cross over, that makes you who you are. It is true that you will never find an exact person like you in this world. This is what makes us interesting as individuals. Keep in mind that when college admissions officers look at your resumes and transcripts and applications, that they've seen thousands of SAT scores and GPA's, but also, they look for well-rounded people, interesting people who can write and are separate from the usual applicant. They want someone unique and individual, as well."

She turned and transitioned over to where Gabriella and her other row of students were sitting.

"Gabriella," she smiled kindly. "Let's use you as an example."

She motioned for everyone to look at the young scholar. "Gabriella Montez. Considered to be the brainiac of East High School, brilliant in every sense of the word, kind, reserved, with a shy disposition, and always speaks when she's spoken too. Perfect SAT scores, tutor, mentor, friend, daughter, the usual."

But she stopped her raving speech about one of her star students and looked her straight in the eye. "Gabriella is one of the most intelligent girls to grace the state of New Mexico. " She paused.  
"But what makes you really different, Miss Montez?"

Gabriella stopped all thinking and her mind turned backwards. "Excuse me?"

"Applicants to Ivy League Schools and schools all across the nation have tons of students with brains like yours, perfect SAT scores, high grades, top of the class status, that's the cliched of them. But they want more, they want in-depth, well-rounded people..."

"Yeah," she spoke in a shy, meek voice. She never felt so put-on-the-spot especially with the snickers and the rolling eyes of her peers.

"Come on, don't be shy, Gabriella. Any experiences, anything really unique or different you want to share with us?"

Her shy side reflected as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Dr. Krane. I have no idea."

Dr. Krane nodded. "Well, then. I hope this attitude doesn't reflect in your essay tonight, Miss Montez. All of you have a written assignment tonight for homework, an essay telling me what makes you unique in the sense of the word. You can say what you are like, your style, but so much more than superficiality, I want to know what truly makes you stand out.

On cue, the bell rung and pupils rushed out of their seats, eager to meet and gather with others in the wide hallways. Gabriella quickly grabbed her purse and binder, heading frantically out the door for her next class.

She crossed her arms as she walked alone and shivered through the school's air conditioning system.

She was clearly not in a wonderful mood today...

That was, until a large, rough hand swept over her wide, chestnut colored eyes. "Hey," spoke a deeply whisper.

She turned around and found Troy's lips at her own, immediately sweeping her off her feet.

After a brief moment, she let go of his arms and sighed. "That just made my morning a whole lot better."

"I'm glad to take you on my cruise of love, Miss Montez."

She giggled softly and he wrapped his arms around her, both bodies walking towards the same direction.

"Taylor told me about Dr. Krane and how hard on you she was today. Pointing you out like that, and acting as if she knew every component of you? Man, that's got to be harsh. You only see her everyday for what, 50 minutes?"

Gabriella shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to worry about that tonight. I just want to relax right now...with you."

Her exquisite brown orbs met with his cobalt ones and they linked hands, sending sparks through the both of them.

"I better get going," he replied, regretfully. "I'll see you at lunch, though all right?" He brought his face to hers, kissing her for what seemed like a short second. "I love you."

And it was then, that her whole world stopped...again...

"And I love you too," she smiled.

* * *

Gabriella Josephine Montez NEVER struggled with homework, school work, or anything involving work or school, or both combined together. It just didn't work that way with the likes of the young prodigy. For pete's sake, she was chosen as one of Time Magazine's most promising youth of tomorrow! She was SUPPOSED to ace everything, it was how it always was, similar to yellow never being a winter color, only wearing one pattern at once and not something disastrous like polka dots and stripes combined together, and always organizing your highlighters, markers, and pencils, by color plus size. That's the way it always has been with society! The day she was born from the womb, she had always been meant to get an A.

But immediately at 2 A.M., when she stared at the blank piece of paper in front of her, and a still freshly sharpened pencil, she had doubts about getting an A this time. With the pace that she was going, she might be able to get an 85. And 85's and Gabriella Montez was like smothering peanut butter with pickle juice together on whole wheat bread. Ewww...that sounded disgusting...

What made her unique? Or rather, don't think too hard...

What makes you and your life special? Come on, use that prized brain of yours...

What defines you?

And only one word had come to mind...

Why hadn't she thought of that before? Man, she better stop getting too preoccupied worrying so much...

* * *

Dr. Krane had taught for almost 30 years in secondary education. She had received multiple awards for her efforts and work and had hundreds of students through her various phases and classes, never remembering a name so much unless it was very significant and memorable. Throughout teaching AP English for quite a bit at East High School, she found her trademark assignment usually redundant and the same, a surprising fact at such a prestigious high school in the New Mexico Area. In fact, it was very rare when someone actually came up with something BRILLIANT. And come on, it was supposed to be about what makes you unique... it wasn't like she was requesting the use of symbolism, or foreshadowing in a literary piece, though that was actually pretty simple, in her opinion...

She rolled her eyes at Taylor McKessie's work... One of her smartest students and yet she still had come up with something the same as always...

_So how do I stand out? Well, my logic, independence, and work ethic are three distinguished characteristics in which make me a refined individual here in my community..._

Come on, McKessie, we are talking about a possible ticket to your future, not the Miss Teen USA pageant.

She then critiqued the essay in red marks, removing it from her pile, and then taking out another single sheet of neat, organized, single spaced, and typed up piece of paper

Gabriella Montez

_6,663,936,500. What does this number represent? What is so special about it? Well, it is the number of people existing on this very Earth right now. Throughout this world of 6 billion people, it is hard not to remain the same, not to be pressured by others to follow the crowd... How can you when there are that many? But rather, as you said, journeys and pathways are not parallel to one another. Name one person who has gone through every single footstep, pathway, and choice you have ever grasped and taken into your own... Can you see it? Do you know? Because frankly, I've met a lot of people in my lifetime of transportation and movement, and I do not know one who has gone through what I've gone through, in the course of my lifetime. _

_But specifically, what makes me unique, besides these general aspects? It may not be my brain power or ambition because of the amount of competition in Ivy League schools and colleges in society, but rather, for me, it is the personal experiences that shape me up into the bolder, wiser, and more confident person I am today...What person can say that right now? _

_Who can say they've got a BFF named Taylor McKessie? Who can say they've got a mother named Socorro Montez? Or who can say, they have an East High Wildcat Superstar boyfriend named Troy Bolton. Troy Bolton. The person who makes my heart stop when he declares his love, the person who would never, ever be able to say no to a bag of cheese puffs, and the Troy Bolton who captivated me the moment he seranaded me at the ski lodge. Sure, there are many fairytale stories of the charming prince out there, but Troy, Troy is different because he has so many layers beneath his rough exteriors, a complexity to which I do not think another person can uncover besides me, and vice versa. It's like I can read another person and I only met him one year ago. Who can define that power? Who can define that trust? Who can define that love? And more significantly, who can define that they've loved a Troy Bolton? _

_So how are we unique? Troy loves me, and I love him, and when he says it, it's like everything is frozen around us, when he holds me, its as if that moment in time could be photographed and embedded forever in our minds, and its because of it, that I know I am unique because I am the only person out of 6 billion people, to say that I will always be the one to love a Troy Bolton first, and foremost. _


	7. Tomorrow

**Hey guys! I'm back with an update...anyways, this is probably one of my favorites so far of the collection. It's just one of those scenarios of where you are at the airport and the guy you love comes chasing after you, it's in a way, a classic. Anyways, please check out my new story out of the High School Musical section, it's called: "Make Me a Storybook," and about the _Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants_, I am very excited about it. Thanks for all your support! **

**Tomorrow **

It was late at night in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The desert heat had transformed into a salty breeze at night, and it was past midnight when the colors of the sunset had instead transitioned into a dark, silver, twilight. All that was left in the humid town was a beautiful, bronze-skinned girl. Her curly black hair flew in the wind as she took one last breath in.

It would be her last night before she packed her bags and left for one of the biggest times of her life. It would change everything for her…..

All she wanted was to enjoy this very last moment because she didn't know how many more of these moments would come once she left for New York……

Gabriella had always been a brainiac, a wallflower in the glassy eyes of her schoolmates, the kind, young woman with sparkling brown eyes and a huge dimpled smile. Little did they know a huge voice existed inside the young, "Einsteinette."

* * *

_All she had been doing was singing in a place where she thought she would be alone. She and her friend, Kelsi had been watching this local band at a café, when everything closed down, and everyone was left, and the lights had almost been turned off, she had been belting out a tune from the band. She swayed her body to the music and tapped her foot until turning over and seeing a figure come out of the darkness. He had been wearing an Armani suit, with a buzz cut, and a kind expression on his face, he smiled nicely at her until handing her a card. _

_"You have quite a voice, young lady. What's your name?"_

_"Gabriella Montez," she spoke out shyly, her wallflower act coming out again._

_"I'm Michael McDonald. I'm from Music Box Records, our headquarters in New York, and I was thinking, if you'd want to come over for an audition for our label heads. I'm an executive over there, in fact, that's why I'm here. I've been looking for young talent all over, and I think I've just found my new artist." _

_Gabriella's eyes went wide like saucers. _

_"How old are you?"_

_"I'm 18 in a week. I'm actually graduating in a month."_

_"Look, I'd love to talk to your parent or guardian. We have an open call in 2 weeks…."_

* * *

That was the start of what would happen tomorrow. After a long, and dragged-on talk with her mother about continuing her education and taking a few courses, she flew to New York for the audition, where the heads were so impressed, they called up her attorney and mother to sign a contract on-the-spot for a 4-album deal. She flew tomorrow to begin songwriting and recording.

Before, Gabriella had been afraid to raise her voice and reveal what she loved the most, and a year from now, she would have never imagined that she would become a recording artist. Still, by deal with her mother, she would have to take a few courses in biomedical technology at NYU, but still, she had managed a play, a Decathlon meet, plus a move into a new school, just weeks after she had arrived, she believed that this spirit inside of her could last as long as she pushed herself for what she wanted.

She wrapped the blanket around her tighter before turning and opening the door to her room for some sleep until she heard a rustling beside her. Shaggy blond hair appeared out and then she saw herself gazing into the most beautiful, cobalt eyes ever. She rolled her eyes as he continued climbing further up, and shaking the leaves of the tree more as he finally propped himself up and landed his two feet onto her balcony, positioning himself right in front of her.

_Why was she not so surprised? _

Gabriella rolled her eyes, once more, before furthering her blanket more open for the shivering boy.

"Come to greet me, O Wise One?"

He chuckled slightly and happily went over and snuggled next to her.

"Hey," he whispered.

"What are you doing here? I told you I would say good-bye tomorrow."

Troy shook his head. "I know, but it wouldn't be enough time for us."

Gabriella playfully shoved him. "Stop acting like I won't see you again. It's a small world, I'm coming back to Albuquerque."

"That's what all the big stars say until they get caught up in the fame and never return back to where they came from…."

Gabriella sighed and leaned into his shoulder.

"Someone's upset about me, right?" She frowned.

"I'm just worried about losing my best friend."

Gabriella put a hand out to gently touch the side of his face.

"You aren't going too, because I still will be. And if I do, then you can just go on right to New York and kick my butt and drag me back to the University of Albuquerque, because if I immerse myself into too much of it, I'll try and find my way back to you."

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his shoulder blade.

He closed his eyes, practically sleeping, and put his mouth to her shoulder. "I love you," he muffled out, softly.

Gabriella nodded, ignoring the chemistry, as if it was just a normal feeling.

"_I'm in love with you……." _

Gabriella knew. Knew of how he felt for her, because it was only evident of how she felt for him...

A lone tear went out of her glazing eye, and rested on his knee.

"Me too..."

* * *

"Gabriella, I want you to call me right when you get to your apartment. Make sure you eat right, no under-age drinking, or clubbing, no drugs, no smoking, and certainly no revealing clothing or hard rock boyfriends. If I see any of that in the tabloids or the press, know I will immediately fly up there and apply back for admission at Yale, got that?"

Gabriella grinned and hugged her mother. "I'll miss you too, mom…."

Her mother cried in her embrace, her only daughter leaving her alone again….

"I love you, mija. Don't ever let anyone define you in the real world, because not even me, nor anyone else can do that, except for yourself."

She let go and kissed her cheek. "And always remember that before loving anyone, you have to really know through the heart….."

_Calling for Flight 546, from National Albuquerque Airport to JFK, New York City. All boarders please line up with your passes _

Her mother let go of her hands and Gabriella reluctantly walked over to the bustling line, waving over to her sobbing mother. This was her family, and always would be, no matter what would happen in New York….

"I love you," she lipped to her.

Soon, out of the hordes of people, came a lone, shaggy-haired blond boy again with bloodshot eyes and a ruffled shirt and jeans. He looked terrible, his cheeks rosy, and tears almost bursting out of his eyes. "Gabriella! Gabriella Montez! GABS!"

She took a breath in and peered out at the moving line. She was almost reaching the perky flight attendant who was checking over the passes.

"Gabriella!" He finally reached her, seeing her shocked expression. "Gabriella, I woke up in your balcony, this morning, realizing I needed to see you one last time."

"Troy…I-"

"No. Let me do the talking this time… I can't let you walk away from me. I can't let you walk away without….without…."

"WHAT?"

"You've been my best friend for 2 years. I can't… I can't…."

"Miss," a gruff voice interrupted them from behind. Glares from many men and women, and even children came from behind her and both ignored them.

"I love you, Gabriella…."

He grabbed her and shoved her into a kiss, a kiss so passionate and so rough, it made her heart stop and her senses tingled all over her body.

After what seemed so short, but still so long, both let go for air, and she shook her head, at what he could do to her.

"Troy….," she cried out.

"Did you just have to do this now?"

"I love you, Gabriella Montez. And whatever happens, I'll wait for you, I promise."

"Miss, are you going on the flight?" The flight attendant stared at her, curious to see what was happening.

Gabriella bit her lip and Troy replied…

"Yeah, she is."

"Troy, I'm coming back for you…."

She kissed him slowly on the lips, one last time.

"This isn't good-bye," she smiled and she waved at him as she crossed over the boundary…to her future.

But to a future that would also include someone from the outside, looking in…

Because whatever would happen to her, would never include a good-bye from the past world she lived in, and instead, she found herself at the perfect crossroads to whom she would become and the person to whom she wanted to be…

She looked back at him one last time before stepping inside the plane….

And that would include Troy….

**REVIEWS PLEASE! **


	8. I'm Only Me When I'm With You

**Hey guys! I hope you've had a wonderful summer, so far. Anyway, here's my latest one-shot, and thanks for all of your support! I would LOVE you forever if you read the story AND reviewed. You are amazing, but you'd be even more amazing! LOL. Anyways, Gabriella may seem a little OOC, so sorry about that. **

Gabriella was _frustrated. _And that may be ordinary for _some _people, but not for her. I mean, she was Gabriella Montez, for pete's sake, she was so kind and forgiving that sometimes people swore they saw a halo appear above her angelic face each time they saw her. If she ever even _mentioned_ how much she despised Sharpay's mass amounts of pink, she would literally slap her delicate cheeks for even thinking such thoughts. That had always just been Gabriella. The day she was born from the womb, it was her destiny to bring light and sunshine and happy little unicorns and butterflies and ponies to other peoples' lives.

Nope, it didn't bother her that other teenagers at school were allowed to drink endless supplies of beer at house parties and make out in between their 5-minute breaks after classes ended. Nope, it didn't bother her one bit that Gabriella Montez would put on a pedestal, because she was Gabriella Montez, right? She was supposed to not be pestered by anything and be known as Little-Miss-Perfect?

But the charade stopped once Gabriella caught sight of Vivian Castelle trying to mack lips with her boyfriend. She saw them as she obsessively organized her books back into her locker by color, texture, and size. Once she caught sight of Vivian mindlessly twirling her fake long and blond extensions in front of him, as he slammed his locker door and walked with her, she couldn't keep her eyes of how slutty her barely existent black skirt was. It was so short with high heeled, sleek black, leather boots and a metallic blue tube top, that she literally saw drool escaping out of the mouths of hormonal, East High males.

She worryingly bit her lip at the sight in front of her. They were centered in the middle of all East High hall activity. Was he declaring something? Was this his new girlfriend? Was he living his perfectly nice, sweet, but naïve girlfriend for bold, spontaneous, and flirty Vivian? Did he want a cheerleader instead of a mathlete? Did he prefer skin tight mini skirts over modest sweaters? Gabriella's breathing turned to panting. She might've been hallucinating or exaggerating, but she wasn't letting this go. She wasn't letting go of Troy, and she didn't care how far her reputation as a "goody-two-shoes" would suffer by risking it.

* * *

Hungry adolescents were bustling all over the place to reach the wafting and enriching smells of the cafeteria. It was macaroni and cheese today, and everyone was excited that they would be getting a chocolate chip cookie. Gabriella rolled her eyes at how many cookies Chad had sneaked into his pocket in the lunch line and ignored the addictive food. She needed to keep thin, after all, if Troy wanted someone like Vivian.

She turned from her position to find Taylor, Chad, Martha, Kelsi, Jason, Ryan, Sharpay, and Zeke all gathered at their usual place.

_Where's Troy?_

She spotted Taylor frantically waving her over and ignored her best friend, instead looking for potential places Troy could be. Maybe he was sitting with his father during lunch break? Did they have to talk about touchdowns, or something?

Gabriella slapped herself on the forehead. Mrs. Darbus was getting to her. _Baskets, Gabriella. Stay focused, now where's Troy? _

It was then her heart rate stopped and her breathing again became shallow when she saw her beloved boyfriend sitting smack dab in the center of the location with his new love toy, Vivian and her posse around her. They all consisted of the same character, with make-up pounded on their faces, all of their skin-tight leather clothing made Gabriella uncomfortable. With barely any clothing on their bodies, she cringed at the sight of them. It almost made her ashamed how much they would give themselves away to impress him. After all, that was _her _Troy. She saw Vivian coyly whisper to him and her loud giggling erupted from her glossy lips. Troy smiled and his cobalt eyes danced until she caught sight of all of them avidly talking to him.

Tears almost escaped from her eyes. She proceeded for a few more moments to watch Vivian and her friends giggle with him animatedly. Soon, Vivian made sure that her chest stuck out and Troy, Troy had no more reaction than a smile and wink.

One fat tear glided from her mouth to reach the floor and she hurried to find the bathroom. No wait, maybe just one chocolate chip cookie, or 3 wouldn't have hurt, as she snatched the pastries from the basket and bolted.

* * *

"Gabriella? Gabriella? GABRIELLA MONTEZ?" A loud, screeching voice halted all thoughts of Gabby as she reluctantly opened the stall door and found her vivacious friend, impatiently tapping her Jimmy Choo heel and a hand at her skinny waist. "Taylor was like, spazzing out about you. We were TRYING to tell you something."

Gabriella wiped tears from her brown eyes. "I need your help, Sharpay. It's about Troy."

"I know. He's been acting so weird lately. He's like, attached at the hip of Vivian. But don't worry, you are obviously so much better than her, do you realize how last season those boots are of hers? And the amount of eyeliner she puts on is so poorly, it looks so disgusting, it's like she put sharpie all over her eyelids, or something….."

"Sharpay, I need to go to the mall."

Sharpay rambled on until stopping to hear that last remark. "With me? That's so sweet, we'll go after school! What do you need?"

Gabriella wiped her last tear and straightened her posture. "I need new clothes."

"What's wrong with yours? I mean, that sweet, innocent, peachy look of yours is getting kind of sickening, but since when do you like to shop at the mall than do your homework?"

"Just trust me on this. I need a ride from you……"

* * *

That following morning, Gabriella stood nervously outside the busy doorways of East High. Sharpay stood next to her, with a sparkly pink clip in her wavy hair, and hot pink rhinestone tee with her True Religion jeans, Sharpay looked like a 5-year old girl and brand-name lover's dream combined together. No doubt, Sharpay took fashion risks but it was then that she was unsure of what her modest friend was about to do.

There were mounds of clothing that Gabriella had worn had chosen yesterday. Sharpay was happy to help at her new look, but a little part inside of her was unsure at what she would do. She was usually such a cautious person, one who would never change for someone else. She shook her head at how much Troy and Gabriella had fallen for each other, it was sickening, and kind of cute, too. It was like, straight out of a Disney fairytale book.

She wore a really tight, cheetah-patterned top. It was a tube top that plunged and revealed a LOT of cleavage. Luckily, it didn't go that far. Under, she wore a pair of really skin-tight leather pants. She wore large hoop earrings and put a rather exaggerated amount of make-up on. Closing the look with bright red lipstick, Gabriella finished with zipping a little of her black, buckled boots and knotted her hair into a high ponytail.

Gabriella's earrings were so large, it practically hit Sharpay in the face when she turned. "That's quite some make-up and a top, there Gabby. Sure, Troy will be impressed?"

Gabriella nodded, acting like this was the best thing to do in the world. "Yeah, if he liked what Vivian was wearing. This should be his ice-cream sundae today….."

With fake confidence, she strolled in. With curious stares from ongoers and a considerable amount of whistles, attention, and hollers from the male species, yup, Gabriella was now fearful. Teachers, students, EVERYONE was shocked at what Gabriella was offering. Gabriella was known as East High "Little-Miss-Perfect," they were astounded at the new change. It stung even more when Principal Matsui took one glance at her and shook his head with disappointment. After, came snickers from several cliques of girls, pointing, and whispering.

It was all so frightening as she went to walk over to her locker. It was then she peeked at where Troy was. She pointed one eye over to where he was and then turned away at his confused stare.

How come he had to look so good today? With her favorite T-shirt on him, a periwinkle Polo tee and rumpled jeans, he looked like he had combed a little of his shaggy hair. The effect wore off once he stormed over to where she was standing and angrily closed her locker.

"What was that for?" Gabriella snapped and turned back forward to open the lock, once more.

"Cover yourself," he insisted, handing her his sports jacket. She usually wore it a lot. It was so big and heavy though that it felt like something was weighing her down. "No," she tried back. "You don't have any control over me!"

She attempted to walk past him until he blocked her way with his open arms. "Gabriella, I'm your boyfriend. I don't want guys staring at you like that! And I know this is something strange going on, because you would never dress like you are now. What happened?"

His exquisite eyes begged for her to say something when she bit her lip and played with her earring. Her really heavy earring. She knew she could never resist his plead.

"I thought this was what you wanted," she whispered slowly, after a few moments. "I did this for you."

Troy shook his head rapidly and opened his mouth to say something until more hollers came forth: "Hey Gabriella! Want to skip AP Chemistry with me? I know a place where we can do some chemistry experiments!"

"Hey Gabriella? Going somewhere, how about you take a ride with the Steven?"

"Hey, hot stuff? Is there a place where I can find some ice? Because you are burning up in here!"

Troy angrily cringed and took her hand, ignoring the waves and the winks of the population.

"Hey, Troy? Where are you taking her? To go to karaoke, because I think she was on her way to the stripper bar!"

Tears once more blurred Gabriella's big eyes until, finally he walked enough distance to reach the gym. She dropped her books onto one of the bleachers and sat down, Troy following the same thing.

Troy put a hand on her face, after putting a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I don't want guys doing that to you every day, Gabriella. I don't want them hitting on you, trying to make you feel like you are nothing else but a target to hit on. Why would you think I would want that?"

He took both of her hands in his, his big, rough, ones over her small, soft ones.

A tear went down her cheek. She _hated _feeling so vulnerable with him.

"Because you spent all that time with Vivian, yesterday. I thought that if I changed everything about myself, then you wouldn't have the desire to lust for her, instead of wanting me…."

Troy shook his head, again. "I only hung out with Vivian, because she's helping me throw a party for you."

He smiled. "I was planning it to be a surprise party. I just did it because she is always the head of those dance committees and stuff. Nothing personal with her."

"Then why did it seem like she was flirting with you?"

Troy took a deep breath in and shrugged.

"Vivian likes to prove her self-worth by seeing how many guys she can flirt and be with. It's her nature to do that with every male specimen of East High."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I did all of this just because I misunderstood something."

Troy wiped her tear away. He then whispered in her ear: "Don't ever change, Gabby. I want to be with you just as you are. Being you is what made me fall in love with you."

She looked up into his eyes and sincerely smiled for the first time these past few days. "I love you, too."

"I don't want you ever dressing up differently or changing who you are just because you want to impress me or something, trust me, nothing will change my feelings for you now. And it wasn't exactly fun for me to watch them try to make a scene with you."

She laughed. "I did go overboard, this morning. Take it as a complement, I'd do anything for you."

Troy, then put her face in his hands, and kissed her. Kissed her eagerly and roughly, more with passion than with any other gentle peck or soft kiss, he had ever shared with her.

He raised his eyebrows after taking a breath. "We have class, you know."

Gabriella shook her head and carefully scanned over what looked to be an empty gym.

"Is your dad here?"

"No, he's on a trip somewhere with mom."

Gabriella put her arms around him and pecked him on the lips.

"Well, since I was bad this morning, let's just do one more bad thing, today."

He seemed amused, and smirked. "Gabriella Montez wants to skip class?"

She whispered slowly in his ear. "Like I said, I'd do anything to be with you." _  
_


	9. The Greatest Art

**This one-shot is very different from anything else I have written so far. I hope you guys will like it! **

From twilight until the bright colors of sunrise, Troy Bolton felt like he could stay into his studio in the amount of a lifetime.

_Art was his life. _

Troy had surprised all of his loved ones on that fateful day when he took a pen and permanently signed his name to an art class at the community center. There, he had learned to love the feeling of holding a paintbrush, to crave for that perfection of transforming a plain piece of canvas, to ultimately a masterpiece of color and creation. He loved it, he craved it, he _needed_ it. More so than a basketball, or a uniform, or an NBA playoff championship. And definitely more than a million-dollar Gatorade endorsement.

His studio consisted of stale air, various stained paintbrushes, and a small sink in the corner. Charcoal, brushes, pencils, and pads were few of the supplies that were atop onto all of the various furniture and locations of his home: a comfy upper floor basement of a loft in the Upper West Side of New York.

When he was 17, he would've imagined himself making millions of dollars, and a consistent celebrity and feature on ESPN, where he would have been making his father proud, shooting baskets and beating world records by athletic greats. He would have had possible homes in Los Angeles with an infinity pool or a penthouse apartment looking over all of Manhattan in New York, or possibly a sprawling beachside mansion in Miami. Instead, life threw him an unexpected curveball once he threw a backpack on and bought a one-way ticket to art school in New York City after a knee injury had indefinitely halted all dreams of professional basketball. It had broken the heart of his coaching father more than the actual athlete himself, but he relished in the thought of finally pursuing his dream before any others.

He certainly didn't end up as a rich and famous athlete, instead living a life as a struggling artist barely able to pay his bills. He could not afford the bare essentials in life, but nevertheless, he loved it, he loved the path that he had chosen to live his life.

The handsome artist happily breathed in this thought with a content smile on until glancing back at the model facing him, the sudden action turned his smile into an upset frown. Looking back at the large canvas, he was unsatisfied that it was empty and colorless, no idea or inspiration capturing force. Art was a powerful thing, it stroke you once it hit you, it couldn't be just thought of or studied like logic, the exact thing he was trying and attempting too hard to do.

It wasn't like she wasn't attractive or anything. With the most expressive brown eyes and an innocent, wide grin, she looked like a pop princess from a show stopping music video. But she wasn't any extraordinary to him.

In order for him to create art, he needed to be extra-inspired. Looking at her was just looking at her. He couldn't mix or play with colors, and no force was drawn. As she blinked, he sensed that she was now fidgety and impatient with anxiousness.

"I'm sorry," he finally apologized. "I just don't think this will be able to work out."

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and flipped her long blonde extensions. "You know, it's been 3 hours, and I haven't had an iced soy latte, and I am drenched in sweat because you have no air condition in this asylum. Along with that, you owe me tax money to get back to my apartment in Upper East Side Manhattan…."

She ranted on and on about her troubles in her short time in his studio, giving him enough energy to hurry her out of his loft, hand her a 50-dollar bill with a promise to deliver her given pay. He made a mental note to himself to find a good model himself and to kill Chad.

It was then he remembered to take out his terrible cell phone and call his "best friend." Speed dialing the number, he waited impatiently until finally, an excited Chad answered.

"Hey man, sorry. We just closed the gallery down. How did Sharpay do?"

"I didn't even paint, man. This girl, she has no depth, nothing extraordinary or mysterious to spark creativity. She has the emotional span of a fly."

He could hear Chad's bitter muttering on the other end. "Are you sure? I thought she would be killer. She was an actress in L.A. for a while, before moving here."

Troy rolled his eyes at his naiveness. "Thanks for trying. Man, I need something really special. It's either that or no electricity and water power for months. I might even have to consider moving in with you and living off Domino's."

Chad laughed. "You don't have to worry about that. Listen, I found this girl. I think she may be more your style….."

* * *

It was a stormy night when he heard delicate footsteps calmly walk in, contrasting with the crashing thunder and the lightning of the dark. He rolled his eyes at the thought of giving into Chad's persistence. She was supposed to "rock his world" or whatever. He couldn't believe he would have to use another 50-dollar bill and send another poor girl home at this weather. But at this rate, he was desperate, no matter what; Chad's stubborn self would never listen to Troy's refusals. As he turned around, his eyes widened and his mouth literally started to drool.

Her make-up was smudged, the corners of her eyelids drooping with oodles of black mascara, and her lips devoid of any lip gloss or lipstick, he slightly smiled at her innocence. However, his impression stopped once he caught sight of her tiny, knee-length, ultra tight black dress with her matching stiletto heels. She looked exhausted, especially since she was now soaking wet, her body from head to toe covered in droplets of rain water.

Though she had appeared a mess, a literal and true mess to every meaning, colors had started to form inside his head. Light and color and idea had mixed together and he now wanted and craved to reach for that canvas and draw every boundary and every millimeter of her face, her hands, her eyes, her head……

This was what he lived for….

He shook his head and laughed once he averted his focus back onto the anxious girl. He then held out a hand for her. "Come with me to the bathroom….."

She appeared out of his bathroom, ready an hour later. With his old East High T-shirt on, and her hair pulled up in a messy bun, he thought that no one could ever had looked so good in his old material until now. The wheels kept on turning in his imagination and she awkwardly sat down at the brown stool which faced where he was now sitting with his paints and brushes.

"What's your name?" he whispered out. He proceeded to gaze at her.

She gave him a tiny smile. "Gabriella. Gabriella Montez."

He blushed at her name. "Chad told me you were hot."

Her cheeks turned pink. "Was he right?"

He shook his head. "Nah. More like beautiful."

She stayed quiet as he silently drew the basics of her face, outlined every detail to which he could see. He could only hope that the world would admire her just as much as he had started to fall for her, right then and there.

With her perfectly tanned skin, long raven hair which cascaded past her shoulders, and bright smile and pearly teeth, sweats were sure enough to carry her natural beauty.

The stormy night calmed down and it had calmly turned to morning. Morning was an array of colors clouding all over the skies. She had politely requested to spend the night over and he had excitedly agreed back. He waited for her as he stared back at his almost-masterpiece with coffee and breakfast food on the tables.

She emerged out wearing the same clothing, except her hair was even more messy and her eyes were in need of energy.

"Here's for an extra boost," he handed her a mug as she happily sipped. She eagerly ate the rest of his breakfast until thanking him several times before putting back on her dress and heading out of the loft, with a promise of coming back later tonight to make more progress onto the painting.

"Wait!" She turned around, her eyes searching for what he wanted. "What is it," she anticipated?"

"Do you think, after work, you would want to grab a drink with me?"

She gazed into his piercing and exquisite cobalt eyes, shaggy brown hair, and boyish grin. She could've fallen for him, right then and there.

She could have chosen to love anyone in the world, but she decided to choose the struggling, baby-faced sweet, artist in a bare apartment far from Manhattan. She could have held him in her arms, if she could have, at that very moment, because she knew that out of all the handsome, eligible or wealthy men of the world, no one could look into her eyes like that or paint and define her just as magnificently as the genius of Troy Bolton. He could take all her pain away and draw it out, just because he could. This pressed her to accept.

* * *

"I wasn't supposed to be here," she revealed. As she drank the last remnants of her white wine, she stared back at the disturbing, large, and open skyscrapers and lights of the Big Apple. She looked back into that empty world of bustling and rushing people, of a world where she could have tried to fit into, but she didn't."

She told him of everything. She told him that she scrimped money bartending, of a life where men tried continuously to get her number, of a life which consisted of the same bare-tight uniform and routine, of a life where money became something so scarce, that she was on her bends and knees, and of a life which she had simply hated.

She then told him of times of happiness. One of where she had lived with her mother in a small town in Mexico, of food, light, dance, and music. Her family consisted of just her and her mother and a lot of her cousins where they had cooked and had sung together and days of sunshine had never ended. That was what she had craved for, he learned.

She had intended to move to New York to start a life in music, and so far, nothing had progressed. She told him, that once the painting was finished, she would be done and would immediately fly back to Mexico for an indefinite trip back, to proceed to a life that she had never stopped to miss. Once she had a bit more money, she would come home, for good.

"I'm lost," she finished after stopping her long chat about her life from the lights of Mexico to the streets of New York. "I wasn't meant to be here," he could sense tears in her eyes. "And frankly, I was trying to make myself a home in a place which I thought would be better, a home where I thought I could make for me, but I didn't. I realized that the place I belong, I didn't need to get out of all along. I'm going home…"

He saw her large grin and happy tears spilling out of her emotional eyes. He wanted to croak out that maybe it wasn't Mexico or her small apartment in New York that she belonged, but it was with him. She was meant to be his inspiration, was meant to create beautiful art with him, and that if he could just get her to stay, she could realize her need to stay.

But then he saw the waiter deliver their check and the lights beginning to dim down and the servers flipping the chairs, and Gabriella fidgeting to retrieve her purse and check her wallet for enough tax money, that it was closing time, that it was not enough time to say anything. There was not enough time to say anything back at all.

* * *

It was weeks later when their masterpiece was completed and it was the opening of his new exhibit at Chad's gallery. Newspapers had raved of the great "Troy Bolton." They vowed of paintings and drawings of promise, of ones which conveyed themes that which even great literature could not define.

Troy had gained a few attentions from the people of New York. Chad had orchestrated a grand opening, and champagne glasses were cleaned and shined, and the glass ceilings and walls of the small gallery beamed of his hard work. Newspaper critics, art lovers, and culture geeks of the city gathered to view and to auction off to buy his work. They opened their mouths in awe and pointed at the perspective of the new discovery of Chad Danforth. It was then that he had been asked several questions and been gathered around by several people, people to he knew of great caliber in the art work. It was his day, but all he could focus on was if the exquisite, mocha-skinned girl had arrived yet.

It was then, a half-hour later, that she had calmly walked in. With a black trench coat, she took it off, and revealed a satin, red dress. Her hair was wrapped in a side ponytail, and she wore a little more make-up than usual. Attention had transitioned on her once she entered the party. They whispered of how beautiful she is, of how Troy had discovered her. But no one had paid more attention to her, than he did.

She sauntered over to where their painting was, once he had finally reached over to where she was. It had taken him long work and effort, but the idea was finished. It was set of Gabriella looking lost, in a long, one-shouldered, delicate white and lace dress. Her hair was long loose and free and she was in a field of weeds and wildflowers, looking like she was desperate for a way, but behind her was, a pathway that led to a collage of the Mexican flag, of brightness, of music, of flamenco dancing, of a happy Mexican village behind the confused and dawdling girl.

It was based on their conversation on that long and hallowed night where he realized that what he had needed was _her. _

"They say that this was the best part of the whole exhibit," he said after a few silent moments. "All thanks to you."

She looked at the picture with kind content and she reached for his hand. "No, it wasn't me. It was everything in this whole museum that gave you what you deserve, Troy. You created everything from that ingenious mind of yours." She put a hand to her heart. "I'm going to miss you, Bolton."

Chemistry blinded Troy. "You look nice. It's the first time I haven't seen you in that black dress."

She giggled, and put his hand back. He longed for her to hold it back again. "No, I decided to look all dolled up tonight. I'm celebrating on two occasions. I have a flight back to Mexico City in 3 hours, and then I'm taking a car back to where my mom is."

"Is there a way that I can make you stay?" he asked. His eyes begged for an answer, and he reached back for her hand.

"Is there a way that I can tell you that I can give you everything you need and that I could be your home?"

Gabriella's eyes filled with tears as his cobalt eyes swam with emotion. Her mouth opened to say "yes," at that instant. At that minute, she thought of them holding each other, his arms wrapped around hers at his studio, of their wedding, where he would lift up her veil and softly kiss her, with her mother's tears in the back, of her sitting down to paint every inch of her face again, of their kids rolling and running and chasing each other in their backyard. She thought of the beautiful life they could construct together, she thought of that out of all the men in the world, she would have chosen him, until she reminisced back to the gallery, to the bustling people and their pointing fingers at Troy. She thought of him in his studio, without her, continuing to paint something exquisite, she thought of him visiting Paris and Monet, and finding inspiration everywhere. She thought of her fitting into his life somewhere between the lines, here in New York, accepting him and his art, and she thought of her spending time at home, alone in New York, looking back at the skylights, her heart empty and heavy in her hands.

And as she thought of this and back to his confused expression, she remembered that she was simply just a painting and a model, and that she didn't fit into his life here, that they were two worlds apart in a city that was big enough to carry 8 million people, but not enough to carry Gabriella's world and Troy's world at the same time. She thought of this as she shook her head and regretfully replied no.

"Sometimes the greatest art is of tragedy, longing, and love, Troy. Maybe I was just that, and that painting on the wall was all that we had together."

With that, she remembered art had no happy endings, and what she and Troy had was none, either. She kissed his cheek, grabbed her coat, and opened the door, to a sky that was starting to rain. Gabriella took one last look at his pleading face. She could have come back, she could have begged him to forget her words and be with her forever, but remembered that all she was, was an art, was a painting. She decided that his world was of color, and hers, her world consisted of nothing at all.


	10. Suddenly I See

**Wow, I haven't updated in a long time. **

**Anyways, I was in a writing mood and decided to get back to this. I hope you like this story. It's not like anything I've done before, but I hope you still enjoy it!**

Gabriella liked pickles.

Gabriella was the only girl he knew to read both Danielle Steel and Trotsky as they were two "completely different writers on the scope of the literary and publishing world."

Gabriella liked telenovelas.

One of Gabriella's hobbies was buying Christmas presents and adorning them with teddy bear wrapping paper.

And she loved rainy days. And the thinness of a snowflake. And Van Gogh.

And the color yellow because she depised the color pink.

But she hated cheese and ice cream because after eating a whole tube of Rocky Road after her dad died, she threw up all of it and was later diagnosed with bulimia. And she had "ailurophobia," which was a fear of cats.

But Troy hated pickles and didn't know who Danielle Steel or Trotsky was. He couldn't even remember the last time he actually attended English class. And hated rain because once after his father made him play for 5 hours in the midst of precipitation, he became sick in bed for a week and a half with pneumonia….

He didn't know much about wrapping Christmas presents since he was Jewish and he wouldn't know about snowflakes since he lived all his life in freakin' Albuquerque while Gabriella traveled every millimeter of the whole Earth.

Another point?

Troy never watched anything but ESPN…

And for some reason, all he could watch was the "Spanish Channel."

* * *

She couldn't even remember the last time she had seen _Dancing with the Stars. _Or _American Idol. _Or anything in something she could understand because all Troy could watch was Rebelde. Now she saw it so much, even she was anticipating when Miguel would recover from his coma and finally get back together with his true love, Mia.

"Troy….."

"Shhh…," he put a disgustingly unmoisturized hand in front of her face to quickly avert his eyes back to the fuzzy grayness of the flat screen TV.

"Shhh… I think Miguel is going to wake up soon…"

"Troy, there was a tornado warning. You have to turn off the TV, anyways. You can hardly see anything."

"Okay, espera. Espera."

"Yeah, I'm not going to understand you. I'm not doing too hot in French right now, anyways."

"You should change to Spanish, then."

"Nah, I don't want to start over at Julliard. I'd have to change my whole schedule and I couldn't take my Music Theory course which is a requirement."

"You're at Julliard, now?"

"Troy, you knew that."

"I thought you went to Albuquerque."

"I got accepted last semester. Troy, listen to me. You knew I left."

"Oh…"

Troy glanced back at her disappointed face and smiled his trademark smirk. "Sorry, I must've forgotten."

It wouldn't be the last time.

* * *

She couldn't remember the last time there weren't pickles with the hamburgers that Troy grilled for her on their "date nights," every time she came home to visit Albuquerque during her senior year.

"Troy, I hate pickles."

"You told me that was your favorite food."

"No, I told you my favorite food was caviar and grilled cheese with truffle oil."

"But I thought you said Julliard always served pickles."

"Which is why I never ate at Julliard and never ate on-campus ever again after freshman year…"

"Oh…"

* * *

Tears were happily gliding from her face once she saw the man of her dreams finally propose to her on a midnight evening at the park. It was right after her Broadway debut and after the celebratory dinner and frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity's.

It would have been utter and absolute perfection until he would open the velvet box and find a square cut, 6-carat _yellow _engagement ring with the finger size of a baby. Who had fingers that small anyway?

"When I saw it, I thought of you…" Troy lovingly said once he attempted to slide the ring on her fat fingers.

"Oops, I must've gotten the wrong size. So much for perfect, right?"

"Right," she muttered.

* * *

"Troy, are you going to help me? I can barely walk!"

"Oh, sorry, Ga-…honey…"

She handed him the large box of diapers. Exhausted, after helping movers adjust to the new nersury that was annexed into their luxury penthouse overlooking the lights of Manhattan, she sat down, lovingly rubbing her belly. She sighed, dreaming…she had never pictured being a mom, especially being pregnant with the baby of Troy Bolton. She couldn't wait every night to close her eyes and dream of a little blond baby with cobalt eyes, dancing in a tutu and asking her mommy for ballet slippers.

The glowing mother awoke from her dream to find Troy lugging in several gallons of ugly mustard yellow.

"Troy…, Troy baby."

She struggled to stand up, her swollen fingers were clenched to the handlebars of the new rocking chair they had bought at "Bed, Bath & Beyond."

"I thought I told you to paint the nursery pink…"

"Baby…" Troy grinned his trademark smirk, and as usual, it melted Sharpay's bloated ankles. "We don't even know what it is, yet. Yellow is a much more neutral color anyways. I thought you liked the color yellow."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. You told me that when I was 16. You told me yellow was your favorite color because ever since you saw the sunset in Granada, Spain, you told me gold was the color God used in his palette of colors to spread all over his new creation. It was meant to inspire you for better things and to always believe.."

"To believe in what Troy? To believe in what? Because you know what the funny thing is…? If you said I told that to you, how come I don't remember it? How come I never remember anything you say you know about me!"

"Babe, calm down. You're pregnant."

"Damn it, Troy. I know that! I know that! But I'm not pregnant, am I, Troy? Because to you, it's someone else that's pregnant! To you, I'm still freakin Gabriella Montez even though she's now a corpse who is resting all the way in freakin Albuquerque, New Mexico!"

"Honey…"

"Call me by my name! You don't anything about me! I'm the one you knocked up, not the girl who died a decade ago!"

"Relax.."

"No, I'm not going to relax! Say it!"

"Say what?!"

"Say you still love her!"

"No! You know why? Because you're acting like you're mentally insane!"

"Say it or I will leave you, Troy Bolton, like I should've done a long time ago! Why didn't you just let me go?!"

"Because I love you, Gab-"

"Oh my…"

"No. It was a mistake. I don't mean…."

"No, no, it's not that…"

She breathed, hard and fast, and she felt her heart pumping, and the heart of the innocent, little being inside of her. She felt it pump so fast, she struggled to breathe and focus on the cruel world that was now closing in on her broken life of perfection.

"What's going on? Wait, let me call an ambulance. It's too early! You're still just 6 months!"

"Troy, just hurry, please," she pronounced slowly in a haunting whisper. And all she remembered was complete and total blackness.

* * *

She hadn't cried in 10 years, ever since the death of a dear friend who lost her life in the most cruelest and unfortunate of ways.

Now she couldn't remember not crying. All that came from her body were wracking, heart-wrenching sobs. Her brother looked at her with remorse, her mother with disappointment, and her father, with sadness that he couldn't replace what just happened to his little girl with something of material value.

And all she saw from Troy was emptiness, because what was once the bumbling body of a beautiful little girl (she had finally found out from her doctor after the surgery), was now nothing. And now she felt nothing. And what Troy had hoped to replace the dark black hole that was still unopened and stabbed from the death of a friend long ago, had grown deeper with the loss of a daughter.

The long night after, when her OB/GYN finally divulged to her that she could go home, she packed quickly before Troy could say one word to her.

"Here, I got you something from that diner place you like in Brooklyn."

"You drove all the way to Brooklyn?"

She couldn't ignore the starvation lurking in the empty pit of her stomach, so she hungrily opened the Styrofoam box to find of course, a pickle, decorated beautifully atop the fries.

"Troy, I need to tell you something."

She took his hand and for a moment, her eyes returned back to the ugly engagement ring he had proposed to her with, now adjusted of course, but still a little tight, due to Troy forgetting her ring size again. The funny thing was, she was okay with it. She had always been okay with it…

"I'm moving to Paris to join Taylor, and we're sharing an apartment there until I can get back on my two feet again and start rehearsals for _Wicked_ next January."

"Wow, it looks like you planned this out long before last night."

"No, it's just something I conjured up that I should've thought of long before. I got married too young and too fast to you because I believed in this fake lie of a fairytale. I thought you were _it. _I thought that after long nights of you sobbing and sneaking out to her grave, after long nights of you getting the wrong flowers, the wrong foods, everything, that we could start fresh. And somehow, I was always okay with it, because I believed you move on and love me just as much I love you because that's how you acted for so long. But it was a lie, you were a lie, our life was a lie…"

"Look, listen to me… it's not like that, at all. You're just distraught from the miscarriage. Look, let's just go home and rest on it, tonight. Then we'll talk, later."

She let go of his tight grasp on her hands and slowly removed the ring from her finger. "If Gabriella hadn't left her dorm in a rage and driven off after you guys fought that night, you would still be together. She would've been the one wearing the dress and the ring and having the baby. She wouldn't have lost it like I have. Because I'm messing with fate. It was fate for you two to be together. We were never the couple in the storybook."

"I can give you all that. Let me, let me fix it. Let me start over with you. Your favorite color's pink and you like old movies like _Casablanca _and-"

She smiled a little bit. "Close, it's _Gone with the Wind." _

"See, I'm getting better. Let me marry you all over again, let me take you to Paris and the Caribbean and we'll have another baby. We can still have everything because I love you…unbelievably so with every aching part of my body, as much as you with me…"

It was tempting, the offer as she stared at his cloudy, sincere eyes. But that was Troy Bolton: veiling his emotions and hiding his true self from the world. He did it with everyone, ever since high school and the only person allowed underneath the veil was one curly-haired woman who liked pickles, and mustard yellow, and _Rebelde, _and a woman, a dead woman who still had the love of a boy she would never be good enough for, no matter how hard she tried.

And with the strength she had long mustered up and kept inside for a decade, she leaned in and hauntingly whispered: "Hopefully, you'll find a beautiful woman whose favorite colors and movies you can memorize."

And with that, the girl grabbed her rolling suitcase and spoke: "And I'll hopefully find the same."

And finally, the girl stared at the mirror behind Troy's shocked expression. And no longer could she see the hazy image of curly black hair or dark eyes, all she could finally see was Sharpay.


End file.
